


Beltane

by hecateandhoney (LiveLoveLikeMe)



Category: The Worst Witch (TV 2017), The Worst Witch - All Media Types
Genre: F/F, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Hicsqueak, Sharing a Bed
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-29
Updated: 2018-04-23
Packaged: 2019-04-14 11:18:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 14,348
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14134995
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LiveLoveLikeMe/pseuds/hecateandhoney
Summary: Pippa invites Hecate to spend Beltane with her at a witches' gathering in the woods.  There's just one problem: she needs Hecate to pretend to be her girlfriend for the duration of the festivities, and Hecate's in a panic that Pippa will discover her true feelings.  Based on a prompt for Hicsqueak sharing a bed + fake relationship by SultrySweet





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> I asked for prompts to write little drabbles over on tumblr (notevildear-wicked), and well, I wrote this instead thanks to SultrySweet. It's hardly going to be a drabble by the end, but I'm kind of excited about what I have planned. Content warnings/rating are based on what I have planned at the moment, but I can't promise that won't change depending on what happens when I write the rest. It's probably going to be around 3-4 chapters, though the rest will be much longer than this one.

“It’ll be fun,” she said. “A proper chance to reconnect with nature for the Sabbat.”

Hecate was already weary at that point, but she couldn’t deny that Pippa had made a strong argument.  A witches’ weekend in the woods for Beltane would be the perfect way to celebrate—certainly a much nicer gathering than she’d been able to enjoy since she was a young witch.  There was something entirely stronger about being able to revel in their magic and the coming summer of nature with others, all thriving in the elevated energies together. 

Plus, she’d run out of arguments against it ten minutes prior.

“I suppose you have a point.  It would be nice to be around other witches for Beltane this year.  And the Sommermoss Woods are beautiful right now.  I could even gather some ragwort I need for a spell I want to prepare for the fourth years next Fall.”  Just thinking about the plants she’d have access to, all bursting with a fresh stronger potency, had Hecate tempted to get a head start now.  Practicality held her back.

“So you’ll come?” Pippa asked, fingering another donut much to Hecate’s disdain.  She’d already had three—how much sugar could one witch possibly need?

Hecate sighed deeply, knowing she would somehow come to regret this decision, but she was out of excuses, the students would be gone for the term by then, and the idea of spending time with Pippa always made her stomach flip about with a strange exuberance.

“I… yes.  I’ll come.”

Pippa squealed, looking like she might leap from her seat and hug Hecate, who wasn’t sure at all how she felt about the possibility, until she settled for grabbing that fourth donut instead.

“Perfect!  I promise, you won’t regret it, Hiccup.”  She beamed.

“Somehow, I doubt that,” Hecate drawled.

She swallowed thickly around the mass of donut in her mouth.  “I’ll send over the packing list I prepared, in case you want to look it over.”

“I’m sure that won’t be necessary, but do as you wish.  I already know I’ll be needing a new tent—Mildred Hubble set mine on fire last year when I was teaching my potions class about gathering ingredients in the moonlight, and I haven’t had a chance to replace it yet.”  She’d loved that tent, it really was a tragic ending for it.

“About that,” Pippa trailed off, sheepishly looking down into her cup of tea.

Hecate froze—she knew there would be a catch to this to somehow turn a peaceful weekend into a catastrophe.  There was always a catch.

“I was actually hoping we could share a tent.”  Pippa blinked up at her with those wide, hopeful eyes, and Hecate felt her heart catch in her throat.

Unfortunately, so did her tea, and she sputtered and coughed, choking on the warm liquid in surprise at the range of feelings that simple sentence had sent rushing through her.

“I… you… what?  Why?”  Hecate felt her composure slipping and tensed to bring it back in place.  Pippa would hate her if she figured out just how desperately Hecate wanted that to mean something else, something she knew wouldn’t be possible for Pippa to ever feel back.

Pippa sighed and scooted her chair closer around the little table, grabbing Hecate’s clenched fist in her hands and beginning to absentmindedly stroke it with her thumbs in the way only she would ever be permitted. 

“I don’t want you to think I’m only asking you to come with me because of this, because that’s not true.  I love your company, Hiccup, and can’t think of a better way to spend Beltane than sharing the magic with you.”  Pippa paused and looked her in the eyes, daring Hecate to disagree.  She knew there was a ‘but’ coming, but those damn eyes were so hard to resist when they looked at her like that.

Hecate swallowed nervously.  “All right, I believe you…”

Pippa smiled, though it didn’t quite reach her eyes the way it usually did.  “I have this ex, from years ago, that’ll be there and things just didn’t end well.  At all.”  Pippa shuddered.   “I can’t stand the thought of showing up alone, with all that sexual energy around, so I was hoping maybe you’d pretend to be my girlfriend?”  There were those eyes again.

Hecate would have flinched had she not felt so frozen in place.  She knew Pippa had asked her something, but it was as if her brain just shorted out.  Surely she was hallucinating, had heard wrong.  There was probably mandrake root in her tea by mistake, and she’d wake up having imagined the whole thing.

Pippa, possibly sensing Hecate’s panic or possibly just forcing herself to plough on, continued, “That’s why we’d need to share a tent, of course.  I mean, it would look strange if I took my girlfriend to Beltane and we didn’t even sleep in the same tent, unless that bothers you, then maybe we could work out some other arrangement that still looks convincing, I just don’t want –”

“Pippa,” Hecate cut her off, finding her voice again through Pippa’s rambling.

The blonde, for her part, had the decency to blush.  “So?”

Hecate sighed, knowing she would regret this deeply.  It was one thing to spend so much time around Pippa, but quite another to pretend to be her girlfriend when all she wanted was for it to be true.  “Would we have to,” she paused, swallowing thickly, “kiss?”  Her voice cracked uncharacteristically at the end.

Pippa shrugged, releasing Hecate’s hand and pushing a fallen blonde strand behind her ear.  “I suppose that wouldn’t hurt.  But only if you’re all right with it,” she rushed to add.  “If you do this for me I promise, anything that makes you uncomfortable is off the table.”

Hecate bit back the retort that all of it would make her uncomfortable, because none of it would be real.  Kissing Pippa for a fake reason might be better than not getting to kiss Pippa at all, though she doubted herself even as she thought it.  At least now she didn’t know what she was missing out on.  “A kiss might be agreeable,” Hecate heard herself saying in complete disregard for her own feelings.

“You mean it?” Pippa chirped, clasping her hands together.  “You’ll really do it?”

“Yes,” Hecate nodded, barely able to breathe before Pippa was out of her seat and on her, wrapping her tightly in a hug as though she wasn’t made of thorns.  Then, as if her heart wasn’t already beating so far out of her chest she thought she might lose it, Pippa kissed her cheek and hopped back with a squeal of delight.  “Oh thank you, Hiccup!”

Hecate blinked, feeling heat rise to her cheeks in an embarrassing flush.  Goddess help her, how would she survive being Pippa’s fake girlfriend when she could barely breathe her way through a friendly kiss on the cheek?

“It’s going to be such a wonderful witches’ weekend, I promise.”

Something snagged Hecate’s attention, bringing her back just enough to inhale again.  “Witches?”

“Yes, I told you, this gathering is for witches only.  Although everyone’s generally accepting of any non-binary folk who want to partake in the feminine energy.  If you’d rather go to a more general one, I can look into it, I just thought we’d both feel more comfortable this way.”

“No, that’s fine, I’m just surprised.  You said your ex was planning to attend?”  Hecate tried to steady her face, but with the way her heart was beating she was surprised the words made it out at all.  She needed to get a grip, and quickly. 

“Yes, _she_ is.”

 Silence hung messily between them at the admission as Pippa awaited a reaction and Hecate tried to process the fact that Pippa, _her Pippa_ , had been involved with a woman.  The Pippa she had cut from her life because there was no way she could ever be attracted to someone like her, who probably wouldn’t even want anything to do with her if she knew Hecate had harbored such strong feelings for her.

“Oh.” Hecate pursed her lips.

“Is that a problem?” Pippa asked, something flashing in her eyes that filled Hecate with a tugging sensation.  “That I fancy witches?”

Realizing she’d offended her, she was quick to wave it off.

“No, _no_ , not in the slightest.  I just wasn’t aware, that’s all. You’ve never mentioned.”

She chanced a look up, this time seeing something else in Pippa’s eyes.  She couldn’t place what it was, but it made her shiver and pull her tea close again, magicking it just a bit warmer.

“I think that’s wonderful.”  Wonderful?  Goddess she needed to stop speaking before she said something truly revealing and outed her feelings to Pippa right then and there.  She’d asked her to be her _fake_ girlfriend, after all, not her real one.  Even if Pippa did fancy witches, that didn’t mean she had any more interest in Hecate than she had five minutes ago.

Pippa smirked, reaching over to pat Hecate on the arm.  “Then it’s settled.  We’re really doing this.”

“Yes, I’m afraid we really are.”

“It’ll be fun, Hiccup!  Just like our old sleepovers when I used to sneak into your room.”

Yes, Hecate thought, remembering exactly how difficult it had been to have Pippa come make herself so comfortable on her bed, looking beautiful with her hair down and face fresh for the night in the glow from the moon.  It would be just like that.


	2. Chapter One

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all so much for all the support and feedback so far-- I truly appreciate it! I've decided, as the ideas for this keep growing and growing, to update in chapters more around this size every day rather than shoving it all together into a few long ones. I'm kind of excited by the different ways this one keeps going. I have so much planned that I'm excited about. I can't promise a new one every single day, but I'll do my very best. 
> 
> Warning: This chapter does allude to Hecate having anxiety.

The May Eve festivities were already in full swing when they arrived, having decided to fly to enjoy the view over the forest on the way.  Hecate’s broom held perfectly steady even as her heart plunged in her chest during their descent.  There was no chance to back out now—she was doomed to spend the next 48 hours as Pippa’s pretend girlfriend.

They landed in a clearing where the bonfires would burn later in the moonlight.

“Our spot is over here I think.”  Pippa directed Hecate through a maze of witches, some pitching their own tents and others already getting in on the celebration.  It was truly an eclectic bunch, and while Hecate couldn’t wait to avoid them all, she was a little intrigued by how their energies would all combine.

“Of course it’s pink,” Hecate sneered at the sight of Pippa’s bright tent.

“It’ll be easier for you to spot when you’re trying to flee from small talk,” Pippa pointed out, already setting to work on her spells to raise and weatherproof it.  Hecate couldn’t ignore a clenching in her stomach at the sight of Pippa performing magic so delicately.  “There, all set.  Care to look inside?”  Pippa held the flap open with a flourish.

Tentatively, Hecate ducked inside, surprised to find it much more spacious than it looked.  Pippa had clearly done her work modifying things to make them comfortable for two.  There were provisions, all the potions ingredient vials she could possibly need, and two cushioned mats several feet apart on the ground in lieu of beds.

Hecate noted with a little surprise that hers was black instead of the heinous shade of pink covering every other surface.

“It’s not much, but it’ll do for the weekend,” Pippa said with a shrug.

“No, it’s lovely.  Very… you.”

Pippa beamed at what she supposed had been a roundabout compliment.  With a wave of her hand and a spin, she’d discarded her traveling clothes and changed into a flowing pink tunic synched at the waist, hair cascading in blonde waves around her face.  Hecate turned away sharply, trying not to gape at how much of her legs were suddenly exposed.

“Aren’t you going to change?” Pippa asked, now focused on her shoes.

Hecate bristled.  “What’s wrong with what I’m wearing now?”  She was in her usual black dress with a hint of blue shimmering when it caught the light just right.  It had been a staple in her wardrobe for years, but suddenly she questioned it.

“Nothing,” Pippa rushed out, “you know it’s my favorite dress on you, Hiccup.  But it’s not exactly the most practical for plant gathering and bonfires.”

“I suppose you have a point,” Hecate sighed with a grimace.  Had anyone else dared tell her such a thing, she’d have stayed in it out of spite, but this was Pippa.  With a wave of her hand, her dress was replaced with a long sleeve black blouse tucked into a flowy black skirt that reached her ankles.  Her heels had been replaced with flats.  It was simple, yet comfortable, and she looked to Pippa for final approval.

“Much better!”  Pippa smiled warmly, causing Hecate to clear her throat nervously.  “What do you say we walk around?  There’s a feast at sundown and the bonfires start, but we still have a few hours until then.”

Hecate nodded sharply, turning to head out of the tent and then pausing with her hand on the flap.  “Should we discuss our little rouse?”

“We can,” Pippa said much more calmly than Hecate felt.  “Anything in particular?”

Hecate turned, looking off to the side and refusing to meet Pippa’s gaze.  All of it, she thought.  She had hardly any experience in relationships, let alone in fake ones, though telling Pippa that was an entirely bigger obstacle.  She hadn’t exactly thought Pippa to be celibate in their 30 odd years apart, but somehow the knowledge that she had a serious ex—one that Hecate would soon be forced to meet at that—made her ill-prepared.  She hated feeling that way, always had, but she was saved from having to admit this by Pippa side-stepping into her gaze with a reassuring smile.  It almost felt like she knew, but she couldn’t really—not the extent of Hecate’s feelings anyways.

“How about I take the lead, and we work up a signal.  If anything at all is making you uncomfortable, just say the word and I’ll make it stop.”

Hecate sniffed.  “There have been worse ideas, I suppose.  What would the word be?”

Pippa looked thoughtful.  “How about you just say, ‘I’m cold, Pippa’ when you need out?”

“I’m cold?  What if I’m actually cold?”  She grimaced.

“Hecate, dear, I know you well enough to know you’d sit and freeze before admitting that.  Am I wrong?” 

She bristled but did not deny it, getting a smirk from Pippa.  “Anything else, or are we good now?” she asked, looking eager to join the crowd. 

“Lead the way.”  Hecate held her breath as Pippa passed her by, heading out the tent flap.  The breeze sent her perfume wafting toward Hecate—a lovely mix of honeysuckle and roses—and once more Hecate knew she would come to deeply regret this decision.

She couldn’t deny as they walked around that there was something especially beautiful about the high charge of magic in the air.  There were witches dancing already, some kissing, a few just lying on moss soaking up the last of spring.  Crowds made her anxious sometimes, but Pippa stayed close, true to her word that she would make it a good weekend for Hecate.  So for a moment, she almost let herself relax.  A witch of the moon, she let the streams of sunlight poking through touch her face, feeling the warmth of the approaching summer work its way around her for a moment.  Pippa always thrived best in summer, and already she could practically feel it radiating off her.  Seeing her like this, so heightened, might not be so bad after all.  There were some traditional chants echoing through the trees, displays of the most beautiful magic to say goodbye to the springtime.  They passed a fairy ring, empty now, though she knew the fae would undoubtedly be unable to resist joining the celebrations soon enough.  Pippa was giggling at something she hadn’t even noticed, too distracted by a toad with some peculiar purple stripes, when suddenly a warm hand wrapped around her own and yanked her sharply from her thoughts.

Pippa was holding her hand.

She was about to… well, she wasn’t exactly sure what she was about to do.  Cry?  Transfer away?  Yank it back?  Turn into quicksand and melt on the spot?  But then it hit her that _Pippa was holding her hand_ and the smile that tried to overtake her face slipped on for just a second.

Until it fell, promptly, at the sight of Pippa’s face. 

She’d put on that same mask she used on Hecate during the spelling bee, and she wondered for a moment if she’d done something wrong, if Pippa was offended by her smile at the touch of their hands.  Her eyes followed Pippa’s gaze over to a woman with short cropped purple hair, laughing with some other witches at a basic little firework spell her second years could do in their sleep.  Even before she pieced it together, which took only another moment, Hecate knew she didn’t like the woman.

“Is that her?” she asked carefully, watching Pippa’s unwaveringly stony expression.

The clutch on her hand tightened and Pippa nodded.  Hecate pursed her lips thoughtfully.  Pippa could be impulsive at the best of times, she’d have to take charge.

“Should we go over?”

“Probably.”

Hecate hoped, uselessly, that Pippa would say no.  Instead she found herself being tugged in their direction, with only herself to blame.

The glare was replaced slyly with a smile, much more plastic than Pippa’s usual warm grin, though Hecate didn’t point this out.

“Well met, Thistle,” Pippa chirped, not releasing Hecate’s hand even as she bowed in greeting.

The younger woman at least had the decency to look surprised, though in Hecate’s opinion, entirely too pleased by the sight of Pippa.

“Pippa, well met!  I didn’t know you were coming this year,” Thistle greeted back, almost politely.

For just a moment, Hecate thought maybe things wouldn’t be so bad.  Then Thistle continued, a sickeningly sweet tone to her voice.

“I think it’s admirable for you to come alone this year.”

Hecate felt herself being yanked closer to Pippa, the blonde’s hand leaving her own only to wrap firmly around her waist.  She hoped it looked natural, though doubted she’d succeeded in her surprise at the sudden closeness.  She could smell Pippa again.

“Surely you know better than that, Thistle.  This is Miss Hecate Hardbroom, my girlfriend,” Pippa introduced, leveling Thistle with a daring stare.

Thistle’s eye twitched, but she forcibly turned to Hecate and greeted her properly.  Hecate was sure she’d noticed her before, and noted to herself that she definitely did not like the younger woman, but greeted her back all the same.  “Well met… Thistle.”

Thistle reminded her deeply of a pixie—complete with the mischievous look in her eyes that made others around her nervous. 

“Pippa certainly does get around,” she purred, sizing Hecate up and down.  “Sometimes we do need to lower our standards, I suppose.”

She straightened her spine and put an arm around Pippa’s back with much more confidence than she felt, glad for the advantage of her height over the purple-haired girl as she gazed down. It was almost like staring down a troublesome pupil, though to her credit the smaller woman did not cower.

“You’d know what that’s like, Thistle,” Pippa coolly retorted, much calmer than Hecate felt.  “As a matter of fact, Hecate and I have been together over a year now, but we were sweethearts back in our academy days.  I suppose it’s always been her I was waiting for—I’m just lucky we finally realized it.”  Pippa sighed and looked at Hecate, love pouring out of her.

Hecate felt as though she truly might be ill right there in front of Thistle with the way it made her stomach twist.  For just a moment, she wished it wasn’t a rouse, that Pippa was saying that because she meant it, that they truly had been sweethearts rather than the reality of Hecate’s one-sided pining always holding Pippa back.  She wished the love Pippa was pushing into her gaze was truly meant for her.  She wouldn’t do that to Pippa, though, wouldn’t spoil this when she’d asked it of her, so Hecate forced the bile down with a smile.

“She’s too kind to me, when clearly I’m the one experiencing the luck here.”  Hecate gazed back, ignoring the way she had to think only of Pippa to muster up the expression she needed.

Thistle laughed at this, waving a hand at them and squeezing Pippa’s arm like it came second nature to her.  Hecate flinched—both at the contact and at the sudden change.  “I’m only teasing you, Pip.  I’m happy for you—truly.”

“You are?” Pippa asked, eyebrow raised.

“Of course!” Thistle cried, looking back and forth between them.  “I’ve missed you, Pip.  You’re so easy to rile up, I couldn’t resist.  I can’t wait to spend Beltane catching up, and getting to know you, Hecate.   I’m sure we’ll come to have lots in common.” 

Her smile looked innocent enough, and Pippa was even relaxing against Hecate’s side now.  Hecate somehow doubted they could have too much in common, besides apparently harboring feelings for Pippa, but that was the opposite of a comforting thought.  There was still something lurking beneath the surface that made her uneasy.

“That’s great, Thistle!  Honestly, I wasn’t sure how well this would go, but I’m truly happy to hear that,” Pippa replied warmly.  “It’s been far too long.  You seem really well.”

Hecate’s eyes widened slightly in surprise.  Pippa was buying this obvious act? 

Thistle’s hand moved up Pippa’s arm, grazing her shoulder as she leaned in to whisper something Hecate couldn’t hear.  She did, however, notice Pippa’s sparkling laughter in response.

She definitely noticed the way it made her heart clench in her chest, and if her grip on Pippa’s waist tightened just a little, it was only a natural reflex.  It occurred to Hecate that she wasn’t actually sure what had happened to cause an end for Pippa’s last relationship.

It occurred to Hecate, watching Pippa excitedly talk about her latest project at Pentangle’s to the girl that set her teeth on edge, that this trip was definitely shaping up to be a Hubble-sized disaster—and as long as Pippa kept looking at her the way she did, there was nothing she could do to stop it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Don't you all just loooove Thistle? *hehe*


	3. Chapter Two

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow, you're all such great motivators. It's so hard not to work on this, honestly. I accidentally wrote half of tomorrow's chapter already too, and I blame all of you. Seriously, though, I love this fandom. I hope you guys enjoy this installment, I really loved writing it.

It wasn’t until just before the feast was set to begin, the first signs of the sun falling in the sky, that Hecate managed to drag Pippa away from Thistle and back to the tent.  She didn’t know how she could possibly spend one more second in that silly witch’s presence, honestly.

The absolute worst thing about Thistle was how utterly charming she was, even towards Hecate.  She couldn’t say that she’d find her likeable under different circumstances, but she might have been able to better tolerate her presence in the same general vicinity.  That was a horrific thought to accept.

“I’m so relieved,” Pippa said with a heavy sigh.  “I was nervous that Thistle would try to cause problems, but she seems to really like you.  I think we’ll be able to have a blessed Beltane yet, don’t you?”

No, Hecate thought, she really did not.  She wanted to flee right then and there, but that meant leaving Pippa alone with Thistle, and the thought of that made her stomach ache. 

“Yes, she seems,” Hecate struggled for a word that wouldn’t sound too unbelievable, “fun.” 

At the odd expression on Pippa’s face, she thought she might have picked the wrong one, but neither commented on it. 

“I’m starving,” Pippa said instead.

“I’m not surprised, you’ve gone almost two waking hours without any sweets.  That must be some kind of record,” Hecate quipped, feeling the stress of Thistle’s presence begin to loosen the longer she was alone with Pippa in _their_ tent.

“It just makes me all the sweeter,” Pippa teased.  “Deny it all you want, Hecate, but I know you secretly love it.”

She hated how Pippa always had a way of being right.

Thankfully, they made it through the feast without any sightings of Thistle, and Hecate began to feel herself enjoying Beltane a bit more.  The sunlight of the open field was soon replaced with the flickering of a hundred bonfires all scattered about the clearing.  Pippa practically glowed against it all, the perfect example of the summer that would come with the sun’s rise the next morning.  Two little fireflies danced playfully around her, eliciting a giggle that made Hecate’s insides melt.

“I’ll miss Spring,” she sighed dreamily.  “It gets so boring at Pentangle’s when all the students are gone.”

“It’s nice to have a few weeks without a crisis, but I’ll admit, there is something lacking when a school has no pupils to teach,” Hecate admitted.

“We may need to add more tea dates, I’m not sure once a week will be enough,” Pippa added with a laugh.  “Maybe you could even come stay for a weekend?  I’ve been needing someone to help me sort out the potions cupboard, and I can’t make sense of at least a third of the labels in there.”

“I might be able to find the time.”  She would definitely find the time.

They were sitting on the grass near one of the fires, and Hecate found herself twirling a blade between her fingers.  Beside her, Pippa stretched.  If her mouth went dry at the sight, it was Beltane’s fault.  All that extra sexual energy in the air, the centuries of fertility magic reawakening her more primal senses, was making it almost unbearable to sit here and watch Pippa look like that.

Everything felt more alive, even the grass smelled stronger, the smoke softer, Pippa’s hair bouncier.

“Hiccup?” she asked, startling Hecate out of her thoughts. 

“Hmm?”

“I asked if you were enjoying yourself?”

“Oh,” she frowned, wondering what else she might have missed Pippa saying.  She was giving her that odd look again.  “I—yes.  Everything is beautiful.”  _Including you_ , she didn’t add.

Some chanting had begun, more witches joining in and raising the volume.  Hecate felt it tingle through her, reverberating up from the soil beneath her palms.  A few even played instruments.  Everything around her was lively and warm—the perfect May Eve. 

“Are you?” she asked out of courtesy, though from the way Pippa’s foot bounced to the beat, she thought she knew the answer.

“Yes, I’m so glad you came with me, Hiccup.  I haven’t had a Beltane this wonderful since our school days.”  She shut her eyes, letting her head roll back.  “We should do this more often, even if it’s just the two of us.  It’s a shame there’s so many clouds blocking out the stars tonight.”

She smiled to herself, thinking of all the nights they’d spent in their youth sneaking out to lie under the stars, Hecate always treasuring the chance to see Pippa in the moonlight, Pippa drifting off with her head tucked atop Hecate’s stomach.  Even then, she’d always felt comfortable around Pippa, always had an exception to her usual rule of personal space when Pippa wanted closer.  She might not initiate it herself, or even really know how, but if Pippa nudged her, she never said no.

And to think, fear had caused her to miss out on so many years of it.

For a moment, Hecate considered being the one to try this time.  They were so close, she only had to reach out her hand and Pippa might notice, might allow her the same.  The fire was so warm, her magic buzzing wildly in her veins.  Hecate felt reinvigorated, strengthened by the earth with desire.

She had to admit, it was shaping up to be an almost perfect evening.  Much better than anything she would have done alone.  Or at least, it was until Thistle appeared, seemingly out of the smoke.

“There you are, Pip!  I wondered where you snuck off to.”

“Hello again, Thistle,” Hecate bristled, feeling the softness from before drifting away and straightening up, the moment gone, the yearning once more stifled deep down.

“I figured for sure you two would be up dancing by now.  Pip never could resist a good tune.”  She directed this last part at Hecate, almost daringly.

“Hecate doesn’t like dancing,” Pippa interjected, seemingly oblivious to the tension coming off Hecate in waves.

It wasn’t so much that she disliked it, rather that she disliked anyone seeing her do it.  She was too many angles and never in the right step.  “I see no reason to waste time looking foolish,” she said with a huff.  Besides, Pippa hadn’t asked her.

Had she not been so caught up in the interruption, the need to defend herself, Hecate may have realized what would naturally come next. 

“Come on, Pip!  Dance with me, then!  You know you want to,” Thistle chirped, already tugging at Pippa’s hand and trying to hoist her to her feet. 

“I shouldn’t,” Pippa said in the least convincing way, giving Hecate that look again that she still couldn’t place.  “It hasn’t been long since we ate.”

“Please, just one dance!”  Thistle tried again.

“You should,” Hecate added, noting the way Pippa kept looking toward the nearby cluster of dancing witches with longing.  “Don’t miss out on my account.”  _Please stay, please stay, please stay._

Pippa sighed but nodded and hopped to her feet.  “Just one,” she told Thistle, already being tugged away.

Hecate immediately regretted her kindness when she saw how closely Thistle stood to Pippa as they spun and danced around. 

It was easy to get lost in Pippa’s joy as she danced, the way she moved with fluidity Hecate would never have, the way she laughed and spun so freely as though the magic was guiding her every breath.  One dance turned into three, and each time Hecate got lost in watching Pippa, she’d soon find herself yanked out of it by the sight of Thistle.  Thistle moving closer, Thistle touching Pippa’s arm, Thistle standing where Hecate should be.

She held herself back though—Pippa wasn’t hers.  Pippa could dance with Thistle if she wanted to, and there was nothing Hecate could fairly say against it.  Still, it didn’t stop her from jolting when, every so often, Pippa looked over and met her eyes, making her feel like just maybe Pippa still saw her even with Thistle all over her space.

Sometimes she looked back to the fire, trying to remember why they were here, to give thanks to the Goddesses for all they gave at this time of year.  She sometimes forgot the true liveliness of Beltane when she celebrated in solitude each year.

By the time Pippa came back, panting and flopping down beside Hecate on the grass, she was a volatile mix of emotions.  Thistle, truly a thorn in Hecate’s side, took it upon herself to join them. 

“Did you have fun?” Hecate forced herself to ask.

“The music was wonderful,” Pippa said simply, rolling on the grass to face Hecate.  “I wish you had joined us.”

“Perhaps next time,” she replied, hiding a small frown.  There likely wouldn’t be a next time where Pippa wanted her as a pretend girlfriend to dance with—she’d blown her only chance and for what, cowardice? 

Thistle was rambling about something, but Hecate paid her no mind, choosing instead to watch the way Pippa sat up beside her, brushing her unruly hair back from her face.  That odd look was back, apparently reserved just for Hecate, though try as she might she couldn’t decode it. 

“I’m cold,” Pippa said suddenly, cutting off Thistle’s story mid-sentence.

Hecate’s eyes widened in confusion.  Pippa was glistening in sweat still from her dancing and the fires raging all around them kept off the chill of the evening air.  “Are you ill?”  She did look a bit flushed.

Pippa merely rolled her eyes.  “No, I’m fine.  Just… cold.”

There was something almost challenging about the way she’d said it.  Hecate thought back to their code word, but they’d never discussed if it worked both ways.  She panicked a bit, wondering what she was supposed to do, wishing Pippa would just tell her.  Was that a plea for an escape, or was she actually just cold?  Did she want Hecate to get her a sweater?

Pippa was still looking at her expectantly when Thistle spoke up, unbuttoning her jacket.  “Here, Pip, take mine.  You always have looked good in my clothes.”

Something came over Hecate just then, a last strand snapping perhaps, but she couldn’t stand the thought of Pippa, _her_ fake girlfriend, draped in that witch’s hideous purple jacket.  “No need for that,” she barked, tossing aside her dignity and scooting across the grass to reach Pippa’s side.  Sucking in a deep breath, she wrapped her arms around the blonde before she could chicken out.

For a moment, everything froze.  Hecate realized what she had done, how she had all but glomped onto Pippa without even asking, and she held her breath.  Surely this would be too much.  Pippa would realize she was in love with her and transport herself and Thistle far away from the desperately clingy fake.  But then, something amazing happened—Pippa hummed contently and leaned into her hold, putting her head on Hecate’s shoulder and smiling up at her.

“Thanks, Hiccup.”

So she’d guessed right.

Hecate was more than aware of Thistle’s watchful eyes.  Now feeling a burst of confidence, she smugly beamed down at Pippa and daringly placed a kiss on her forehead just like they had done as young witches, hoping the intimacy of the move wouldn’t be lost on Thistle.  She was supposed to be Pippa’s girlfriend, after all.  “You’re welcome, Pipsqueak.” 

Thistle flinched at the nickname.  If it was a game she wanted, Hecate would play it.

Pippa turned her head up slightly, looking her in the eyes and softly closing the distance between them in a warm kiss as though rewarding her for getting it right. 

Hecate was sure her heart was going to stop functioning.

She’d wait until later to dwell on the fact that it had probably only been for show.

“Well, I should be getting back to the girls,” Thistle said awkwardly, standing up and re-buttoning her jacket.

“So soon?  Well, don’t let us keep you.”  Hecate smirked. 

“Mmbye,” Pippa mumbled sleepily, sinking further into Hecate’s hold.  Her heart clenched softly at the sight.

“Pippa, the moon’s almost perfect.  Before you fall asleep on me right here in the open, we should go collect those ingredients.  I don’t like the look of those clouds.”

Pippa’s warm breath tingled across her neck as the blonde sighed and slowly pulled away.  Hecate was loathe to admit that she missed the contact as soon as she was gone, and Pippa had that odd look again.  “Okay, let me just stretch for a second.  You wanna go get the vials?”

Hecate agreed, thinking perhaps she shouldn’t have spoiled the moment, but the night only came once a year and it looked as though it might soon rain if they didn’t hurry.

With one last look at Pippa’s peaceful face in the firelight, she transferred back to the tent.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope that kiss was a good idea? I literally decided at the last possible second that it should definitely happen. But... what did it mean!? See you all with more soon!


	4. Chapter Three

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Did you all know that you're the best? Because you are. And I love you all so much for making this so fun to write!

Hecate barely managed to find the right vials, her hands shaking as she processed the fact that Pippa had really just kissed her.  Her lips still tingled, undoubtedly smudged with Pippa’s pink lipstick, but for once Hecate couldn’t bring herself to be too concerned about it.  So what if she looked a little messy—Pippa had _kissed_ her.  On the _lips._

It had all been so perfect—sitting in the warmth of the firelight, Hecate finally getting to hold Pippa, and the way she’d put her head on Hecate’s shoulder and made that little humming sound that rumbled through her. 

She felt like she was dreaming.

And yet, it couldn’t really be perfect.

It had to be a fake kiss, right?  They had made an agreement to pretend, and she was breaking that agreement by letting her feelings get in the way.  Pippa wouldn’t do that, Pippa would follow the plan and expect Hecate to do the same, or at least tell her if she was changing anything.  She’d probably only done it to make Thistle jealous. 

Thistle, who didn’t sit aside while Pippa danced, with her vibrant-colored hair and chirpy attitude. 

Hecate closed her eyes, fiddling with the chain of her pocket watch and taking a deep breath.  Maybe she was foolish to be so hopeful about it, to let herself want it to have meant more.  Pippa would be happier with someone like Thistle.

Hecate’s stomach only twisted further when she transferred back to the bonfire and found that Thistle had returned.

“My friends went to sleep so early,” she complained by way of explanation.  Hecate nodded sullenly, but said nothing.  She was tired, her earlier confidence shaken, but Pippa looked content, even when Thistle followed them into the woods.

Hecate collected her ingredients as quickly as possible, trying to ignore the way Pippa kept laughing at everything Thistle said. 

“Remind me what this is used for?” Pippa asked, bending down where Hecate was crouched carefully cutting a sleeping flower just above the root.  She felt dizzy with the confusion their close proximity caused.

“I’ve never seen the point in potions,” Thistle interjected, narrowly missing a rare plant with the bottom of her boot and making Hecate flinch.

“It shows,” she uttered dryly, loud enough only for Pippa to hear.

Pippa nudged her with a smirk, still looking at the plant.  Hecate cleared her throat.  “It’s Lady’s Slipper.  I rarely use it, but given the disasters these past few school terms, I don’t think it would hurt to teach the students more protective spells.”

“They’re lucky to have you looking out for them.”

Hecate was glad for the darkness as it hid the flush she was sure covered her cheeks at the compliment.  And she was glad even more for it when Thistle jutted in again, pulling Pippa’s attention back away.  Hecate stiffened and turned, the moment gone, resigned to leaving them to it.

She had to stop letting herself forget that Pippa wasn’t hers.

Hecate worked silently, knowing she was visibly sulking.

She was just about finished when the first drops of rain fell, making their way to them even through the protection of the tree branches high above.

“Oh dear!” Pippa shivered against the onslaught, and before they could so much as say farewell to Thistle, Hecate had them and her kit back inside the tent.

“Hecate,” Pippa sputtered in surprise, “that was rude!”

“Be sure to give her my apologies tomorrow.”

“You can do so yourself.”

Hecate had no intentions of doing any such thing, and began to double check that she’d brought everything back with her.

“If I leave now I should be able to make it back to Cackle’s before the storm gets too much worse,” Hecate said with a sniff.

“Leave?” Pippa cried, nearly dropping the dry sweater she was considering.  “Why in magic’s name would you leave?”

Hecate bristled and looked down.  “You don’t seem to need my help anymore.  If anything, I thought perhaps you’d wish to spend more time alone with Thistle.”  Her lips curved down around the name.

“So you want to leave, just like that?  I shouldn’t be surprised, I already knew you were excellent at it from last time.”

Hecate flinched at the blow, but still turned and reached for her broom.  Just as she was about to clasp the handle, a hand settled on her arm.

“Hiccup, wait, please, I didn’t mean that.”

She pulled her arm away but turned to level Pippa with a look.  “I think we both know you did.”

“No, I mean, I did, but I didn’t… please don’t go.  I don’t understand what’s going on.  Talk to me.  You’ve been in a mood all night.”

Hecate sighed, struggling to pull her thoughts together.  She knew she was being ridiculous.  Pippa wasn’t hers, would never be hers, and she had no business feeling so jealous that someone else was getting her attention.  It was childish and unbecoming.

“I don’t want to be in your way,” she admitted.  That was half the truth at least. 

Pippa looked affronted.  “In my way?  Hecate you could never be in my way.  I wanted _you_ here, remember?” 

“Yes well, that was before you and Thistle decided to get along.  You hardly have any need for a fake girlfriend when you can go back to your real one.”  Hecate crossed her arms over her chest.

“Is that what you thought?  That I only invited you to make her jealous?”  Pippa sighed, rubbing her forehead.

“Yes,” Hecate admitted.

“I love you, Hecate, but I swear you can be the densest witch sometimes.”  Pippa walked up and gently lifted Hecate’s chin.  “I have no interest in getting back together with Thistle, and I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable.  It’s hard sometimes, when you see someone you used to be close with.  It’s easy to forget the painful parts.”  She looked at Hecate pointedly and stepped back out of her space.  Hecate missed the closeness and crossed her arms a little tighter, but stopped trying to leave.

“I told you why it didn’t work out with her, didn’t I?” Pippa asked.

“No, I don’t believe you mentioned it.”  She tried to seem casual.  She knew very well Pippa hadn’t said a word on the matter—she’d have remembered.

“I ended things because she was constantly convinced my heart belonged to another witch.  Everything turned into a fight that I wasn’t committing enough, that she loved me more than I loved her.  She kept breaking things off then changing her mind.  I think she hoped I might miss her enough and change my feelings, but she was right.  It took me a long time to realize it.  There’s always been someone else, and I was only lying to myself when I denied it.”

“Oh.”

Hecate’s heart sank to her stomach.  Just how many witches did she have to compete with?

“So you don’t want to be with Thistle?”

“Definitely not.”  Pippa huffed.  “Despite what you clearly think of her, she has been a good friend to me, but that’s it.”

Hecate wrinkled her brow.  “Then why the rouse at all?  If not to make her jealous?”

Pippa shrugged.  “I don’t know, maybe that was a mistake.”  A mistake—yes, Hecate definitely felt like a mistake.  “I thought she might try to get back together again, and I wanted to make it clear that wasn’t an option.  I should have just been honest when I saw she wasn’t as angry anymore, but…”

“But?”

“It’s kind of fun to be your girlfriend.”

“ _Fake_ girlfriend,” Hecate clarified sourly.

“Right,” the blonde sighed.  “Well, it’s been a long day, and we’ll both want to be up with the sunrise.  Perhaps it’s best if we sleep.  You will stay now, right?”

“That depends.  Do we have to spend all of tomorrow with Thistle?”  Hecate grimaced.  Even if Pippa felt nothing, she didn’t buy for a second that the younger woman was so easily swayed.

Pippa rolled her eyes and set about preparing herself for bed.  Hecate blushed and looked away while she changed, despite knowing it would go by too quickly for anything to be seen.  She followed suit toward her own make-shift bed, changing quickly into her black nightgown and matching robe, letting her hair loose. 

“I’ll talk to her and tell her we want some alone time, okay?  I meant what I said—I came here to spend time with you.  If she’s making you uncomfortable, then that’s all there is to it.”

Hecate settled down on her mat, charming it silently for some added comfort.  “Thank you,” she said with a tired sigh as she pulled her blankets tightly around her. 

“Though it seems we’ll have to stage a breakup soon, if you want to have a chance with the… other witch.”  If tears threatened to spill from her eyes, she certainly would not admit it to Pippa.

“Other witch?”

Hecate quirked a brow.  “The one you said you’ve realized you’re in love with.  Is that not your plan?”

That look that made her feel so entirely exposed returned to Pippa’s face.  “Yes, well, I’m certainly trying.  She’s taking a little too long to catch on.”

Hecate couldn’t imagine anyone, if given half a chance at Pippa’s heart, being foolish enough to miss what was right in front of them.

“She’ll come around,” she whispered sadly.  “If she’s even half the witch she should be to earn your heart, she’ll figure it out.”

Pippa’s laugh sounded strained, but Hecate had already turned away, slowly snuffing out the light in their tent with a wave of her finger.  She didn’t want to see that confusing look anymore.  “I hope you’re right.  She’s worth it, though.”

If a silent tear found its way down Hecate’s cheek, she couldn’t blame it.  She blinked into the dark even as Pippa’s breath began to even out behind her, knowing despite her exhaustion, sleep would not find her easily.

Oh how she longed to be that other witch.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1\. I'm slightly sorry.  
> 2\. BUT NEXT CHAPTER GUYS NEXT CHAPTER IS HUGE


	5. Chapter Four

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I went back and forth about this chapter a lot. I'm still unsure, but in a moment of confidence I'm posting it before I can change my mind. Enjoy!

The falling raindrops grew quickly into a storm, raging outside their tent’s secure walls.  Lightning flashed periodically, illuminating the small space, and the thunder rumbled the ground beneath them.  Hecate didn’t mind though—it was a distraction from the sleep that failed to find her.

She kept replaying Pippa’s words over and over, and had come to a painful conclusion.  She would have to distance herself, it wasn’t fair to Pippa to put her through Hecate’s heartbreak when she wanted to be happy and in love with someone else, and it wasn’t fair to herself to have to watch that happen.  It had been foolish to think time would make any difference—she simply was not meant to have Pippa Pentangle in her life.

They had both laced the tent with protective spells against the weather, so there was nothing to fear in the storm, and indeed the sound was almost soothing to her as she laid awake trying not to consider that the next day might very well be their last together.  It grounded her.

The storm was so calming, in fact, that she almost didn’t hear the slight interruption at first.

But there it was, in the middle of the night, a small squeaking she was all too sadly familiar with drawing her attention.

“Pipsqueak?” she whispered, turning to face the other woman who slept a few feet away on a mat of her own.

Hecate’s eyes struggled to adjust to the darkness of the tent, but a well-timed flash of lightning illuminated the space just long enough for her to catch a clear sight of the blonde witch.

Pippa was curled up, eyes clenched but not appearing to be restful, shaking.  For a moment, Hecate wondered if she had been wrong earlier, and Pippa really was ill. That thought was cut short as the light returned and she saw that Pippa was crying into her fist, shaking with the force and trying to stay quiet.  Her eyes widened in surprise.

Hecate hadn’t expected Pippa’s childhood fear of thunderstorms to still afflict her, had nearly forgotten to consider it amidst her many jumbled thoughts, but clearly it was still an issue.  Her heart sank as she wondered how long Pippa had been trying to hide her cries.

Thunder rumbled and she watched as the blonde flinched violently, tearing at Hecate’s heartstrings.

“Pippa?” she tried again, louder this time.  She could just make out Pippa’s teary eyes opening to look at her.

“Is it the storm?” 

“Y-yes,” Pippa managed to sputter.  Hecate frowned.  She knew what she would have done in their youth, without hesitation, but wasn’t entirely sure it would be welcome now.  That hesitation was crushed when another rumble of thunder shook their small tent, and Pippa jumped with a squeak.

Hecate slid quickly to the far edge of her mat and lifted the blankets.  “Pippa, come here,” she ordered, trying to keep her voice as level as she could despite the absolute pounding of her heart. 

Pippa didn’t hesitate, almost immediately slipping into the space beside Hecate under her blankets and tucking herself under Hecate’s outstretched arm, head finding a place comfortably under Hecate’s chin.  She could still feel the blonde trembling, and held her closer.  She hoped Pippa couldn’t feel how heavily her heart was beating in response to their proximity.

She felt stiff and awkward trying to hold Pippa on the too-small mat, but the more Pippa burrowed into her, the easier it was for Hecate to loosen her muscles, to give into the call to let herself hold the pink-clad witch and relax.  Well, relax as much as she knew how.

The mat was, admittedly, too small for two people to share.  There was only one pillow, and they had to squeeze together so neither ended up on the hard ground, but Hecate found she didn’t mind.  They stayed in silence, Pippa gradually slowing her sobs and Hecate rubbing careful patterns on her back.

“Tell me what to do?” she asked, trying not to sound as frantic as she felt.  Pippa didn’t need more reason to worry.

“Distract me,” Pippa mumbled against her skin.

Of course, the one thing she hadn’t been able to do for herself, Pippa needed.  She hesitated, searching for something that gave her joy to think about.  “That potion I’m making… would you like me to tell you about it?” she asked awkwardly.  Hecate felt Pippa nod in response.

“Very well, I start off by imbuing honey with a little lavender…” And Hecate talked, going through all the steps of her protective potion.  When she finished with that, Pippa was trembling a little less, so she continued with a few of her own invention.  She even tossed in a silly one her student had come up with to turn all her food pink—a ridiculously frivolous waste of magic that she knew Pippa would find charming nonetheless.

Eventually, well into the night when Hecate’s voice had begun to strain into a rasp, Pippa began to still in her arms.  They lapsed into a comfortable silence.

It was too warm, too tight, yet Hecate felt she might finally be able to fall asleep, more comfortable than she’d felt at night in years.

Pippa spoke first, when the lightning had all but stopped, her warm breath bouncing off Hecate’s upper chest.

“Thank you, Hiccup,” she whispered.

“There is no need to thank me, Pipsqueak.  You should have told me you were frightened sooner.”

“Should I have?  I’m not so sure anymore.”  Pippa sighed.

Hecate, confused by the words, pulled back so that she could look down at Pippa’s face hidden mostly by the darkness.  She didn’t need to see her, though, she could sense Pippa’s every move, knew that look had to be back and feeling her frustration return.  “What’s that supposed to mean?”

She flinched as something touched her cheek, relaxing when she realized the warmth was Pippa’s hand.

“Hecate, I can’t figure you out,” Pippa admitted.

“I rather like to think I’m not that complicated to follow.”

Pippa shook again in her hold, this time with something more akin to laughter.  “Oh, but you are.  You’re so incredibly good at being inside your head, but you rarely make room for me to join you.”

“I’m not sure what you mean.” 

“I mean that I can’t tell how you’re feeling.  One minute I think I know, but then you do something completely contrary.  It’s almost like you’re warring with yourself in there,” Pippa admitted softly, tapping the side of Hecate’s head before returning her hand to her cheek. 

“Pippa…” Hecate closed her eyes.  She didn’t like where this was going, was sure Pippa was going to tell her she knew about Hecate’s feelings for her, that she had regretted coming over here because of them.

“Let me finish, please,” Pippa said tiredly, pushing their foreheads together so that Hecate could feel each warm puff of breath against her lips.  When she didn’t reply, but neither did she pull herself away, Pippa went on.

“I think I need to be honest with you—put it all out there on the line.  I’m so tired of feeling like I’m playing a losing game, Hecate.  I need to know.  I need you to know.  Then maybe you can make your mind up, or tell me I’m wrong, but at least I’ll _know._ ”

“Know what, Pippa?”  Hecate could feel her eyes filling with unshed tears, waiting for the rejection that had to be coming.

“Thistle wasn’t the only reason I asked you to pretend to be my girlfriend.  If I’m honest, I was hoping it might help you see what it could be like.  I’m not oblivious, Hecate, I’ve seen how you look at me, but you never do anything about it.  I thought, maybe, you’d like how it feels and settle that little war you’ve got going on in there.  But it wasn’t my best idea, I’ll admit.  All you’ve done is make me impossibly more confused.  I should have just asked you.”

“Asked me?”  Hecate’s mouth went dry as she tried to swallow.

“You love me, don’t you, Hiccup?  More than just as friends, I mean.  Please, tell me I haven’t gotten this all wrong?”

There was a long, silent pause between them, only the sound of gentle rain filling the space.  Hecate felt a hot tear break loose and roll down her cheek toward Pippa’s hand.

“Yes, I’m so sorry, Pippa.  I tried not to,” she admitted.

“Sorry?  Why would you be _sorry?_ ”

“Because, you said so yourself.  You have feelings for someone else—don’t you?  And now I’m ruining our friendship all over again.”

“Hecate, you silly witch.  You’re the someone else, you’ve always been her.  You’re so intelligent, but sometimes you can be so dense.  I couldn’t even get over you in the thirty years we spent apart, do you really think now that we’re together again, I could love anyone else?”

Pippa pulled back suddenly and flicked their lantern on with a flourish of her hand.  Hecate could see clearly that her own cheeks were not the only ones sullied with tears.

She tried to work out what Pippa had said, to see where the flaws were, where she had to be secretly turning her down.  She came up with nothing.

“You love me?” she repeated, blinking nervously.  Somehow Pippa’s hand had made her feel grounded, and she missed it now as everything spun.

Pippa smiled at her softly and nodded.  “Yes, I love you.  And I’ll tell you as many times as you need me to for this to sink in.  I love you, Hecate Constance Hardbroom.  Just you.”

It was Hecate who closed the distance this time, flooding with emotions as she pressed her lips to Pippa’s.  There was a salty mix of tears, but it tasted like relief.  A _real_ kiss, not hidden in riddles or games—it was blunt and everything she wanted, providing the clarity Hecate so desperately craved.

Pippa was kissing her back, Pippa loved her back, Pippa was here and happy and not running away to someone else.  All the years of fear of her rejection, the jealousy every time Pippa’s eyes went to another, the missed chances she’d pushed aside thinking she would always be alone—and Pippa was here.

The kiss was a little awkward, so crammed together they were, but she didn’t mind.  Hecate could taste Pippa’s magic on her lips, and it was sweet like honeydew. 

She pulled back, breathless and slightly swollen, and thought she might kiss Pippa forever if only there wasn’t something more pressing she needed to do first.

“I love you, too,” Hecate croaked, voice as wobbly as she felt.

They kissed and whispered to one another well into the night, until both finally drifted to sleep still wrapped up in one another, the storm long since over and forgotten.

But when the sun rose the next morning to welcome in summer, Hecate slid outside, and Pippa woke to face the day alone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *smiles innocently*


	6. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry I took a few days, but I did make this one more of a normal length chapter to make up for it. I hope you all enjoy, I've been really excited about this chapter since I started it.
> 
> CONTENT WARNING: (Don't proceed with the rest of this note if you do not want a vague spoiler for this chapter) This chapter will include a character being (kind of) drugged against their will. If that bothers you, I can include a short synopsis of it at the beginning of the next one and you should be fine to understand the rest of the story.

Hecate awoke to the sunrise curled around Pippa.  She’d hardly slept a wink, yet every part of her felt too charged, too restless from the night spent in Pippa’s arms.

It was almost unreal, like she’d dreamed it—the kisses and touches, the whispered confessions in the dark—but looking down at Pippa so content and warm beside her, it was impossible for even Hecate to deny.

Pippa, somehow, actually loved her back.

Pippa, with her hair a mess, drool dried to her chin, and forehead scrunched adorably at whatever her dreams were showing her in there.

Beltane certainly wasn’t helping matters.  Now fully in swing, the sun warming the rain-soaked ground around their tent, the magic and energy were practically pulsating within her.  She needed an outlet, needed something to help calm her own magic as it bounced around, but Pippa slept so peacefully beside her, she didn’t dare awaken the blonde.

She deserved to rest while she could, because Hecate had no intention of letting her leave her side for the rest of Beltane if she could help it.

Carefully, Hecate transferred herself out of Pippa’s grip.  She needed to change out of her nightclothes, and returned to yesterday’s outfit with her hair in its usual braided bun.  If her skirt was a little shorter, well, that would be for Pippa to determine.

With a fleeting look back at her slumbering princess, messy and all, Hecate left the tent.

Instantly, despite the chill from the wet morning and the shadows cast down from the treetops, Hecate felt herself flood with warmth.  It was the magic of Beltane, filling her and soothing her quivering muscles that ached to put all the power to use. 

There were other witches stirring, some already going about their days in full swing with fires burning to cook breakfasts and flower crowns being woven steadily together.  Summer was truly being welcomed in by all. 

She crept off into the trees, wishing to be alone for a moment before she did anything to join the celebrations.  Spotting some flowers sprouting in a patch, she bent down and focused her energy on them, sighing a bit as it drained from her fingertips and into the plants, helping them bloom to the fullest extent.  That felt better.

She continued moving about the trees, letting little bits of magic out where she could when she felt too full, killing time on her own until Pippa was ready to join her for the day.  The sound of crunching leaves pulled Hecate’s attention and she smiled.

“You’re awake?” she asked, turning to face Pippa anxiously, aware it would be for the first time since her confession the night before and blushing a bit at the thought.

“Yes, but I don’t think I’m exactly who you wanted me to be,” Thistle said.  She was approaching with two wooden cups clutched in her hands, smiling softly at Hecate, who did little to hide her own frown of distaste.

“Oh, it’s you.”

Thistle laughed at that, though Hecate didn’t find her presence especially amusing. 

“Pippa’s still asleep,” Hecate added.  The petite girl only continued her approach, stopping several feet away to lean against a tree.

“I know, I saw you come back here alone.  I was actually hoping we could talk.”

“I can’t imagine what we could possibly have to speak about,” Hecate quipped, crossing her arms firmly over her chest.

Thistle frowned and looked to the sky.  “I deserve that, I know.  I can’t help feeling like I stepped on your toes yesterday, and I just wanted to apologize.  You’re with Pippa now, and I think that’s really nice for you both.  I shouldn’t have asked her to dance—sometimes I just get so excited to see a familiar face I forget myself.”

No, Hecate thought, you really shouldn’t have.  But she sighed, slightly disappointed in herself for thinking it.  Thistle, as annoying as she had been, hadn’t technically done anything wrong to her.  She hadn’t even been Pippa’s girlfriend, technically, and really didn’t even know if she qualified as that now. 

Though, Pippa had made a late night confession of her love and kissed her, which certainly seemed to be promising in a way that emboldened Hecate.  Thistle didn’t seem all that threatening in this light—merely sad.

“I should apologize as well, I am aware that I can be…”

“Rude?” Thistle tried.

Hecate narrowed her eyes.  “I was going to say a little harsh, but if you insist, yes.”

Thistle merely shrugged.  “I didn’t come out here to insult you, really I’m sorry.  I just wanted us to get off on a better foot today.  You seem like a cool witch, once you’re not looking at me like you might hex me into next week,” she chuckled.  “I wish we could start over with the whole thing.”

Hecate had to admit, though she’d never call herself or anyone else ‘cool,’ it was an interesting prospect to be a bit kinder to the younger girl.  She seemed to be trying, at least, and Pippa would be thrilled if Hecate had mended bridges after the night before.  She imagined the way Pippa would smile at her, like she was proud of Hecate for putting her own pettiness to the side, and stood a little straighter.

“I suppose we can both agree that Pippa certainly does have a way of attracting others.  Even my students seem to swarm around her when she visits, I can hardly blame you for a momentary lapse.”  Hecate knew she was certainly guilty of the same from the day before.

“She really does,” Thistle laughed, “Good thing I think we both know she only has eyes for you.”

Hecate smiled at that, thinking of those very eyes and how they’d looked at her in the lantern light.  She could no longer deny to herself that Thistle was right.

“Well met, Thistle,” she said, bowing her familiar greeting.  “I’m sure it’s nice to meet you.”

Thistle beamed, clumsily greeting her back whilst juggling the two full cups in her hands.  It was a miracle she didn’t spill them everywhere.

“Oh, right, I brought you some mead as a peace offering,” Thistle said, holding one of the cups out.

Hecate looked at it with a grimace.  “The sun has barely risen for the day.”

“It’s Beltane!  What better way is there to celebrate than to drink some of nature’s nectar?”

Hecate took the cup hesitantly, giving it a sniff.  It was sweet, but she couldn’t deny, Thistle did have a point.  When better to imbibe than on a holiday while making peace with a fellow witch?

“Thank you,” she said with a small nod.  She wouldn’t drink it all, just a few sips to appease Thistle and solidify their new common ground.  Pippa would be proud.

“To a new friendship!” Thistle said, raising her cup to the sun.

Hecate, somewhat reluctantly, echoed the sentiment.  Friendship might be a bit strong, but she did think she could stomach some sort of improvement between them.  For Pippa’s sake.  With the sun warming her cheeks, Hecate tilted the cup back and took a sip.

The liquid was as sticky and sweet as expected, but she found she strangely didn’t mind the taste.  It was lush and inviting, fragrant to all her senses, and she began to crave another sip before she’d hardly finished the first.  Not one to indulge in a drink often, Hecate knew well enough to pace herself, but that thought seemed to float to the back of her mind.  One sip became two, then four, then she was gulping it down and the wooden chalice was left empty in her clutched fist.

She looked around to ask for more, but she was alone in the cluster of trees, and then Hecate couldn’t remember who she had been looking for at all.  She felt warm and flushed, but soft.  A giggle bubbled up through her lips as she spun around, looking for the way she might go.  The drink had made her feel excellent, but she needed more.  Goblet in hand, she stumbled off toward the meadow.

There were some witches around, but none as dazzling to her attention as the fae flitting about.  A little sprite buzzed past her, making Hecate spin in an effort to follow, nearly tripping over herself.  Here in the field, the sun was beaming down in full force, but she shivered. 

She remembered hazily that there had been a fairy ring and some sort of celebration, so the fae must have come to partake in whatever it was.  That hardly seemed to matter anymore. 

Fae was a term they used representing a menagerie of creatures—at the moment, Hecate could count a handful of sprites fluttering closer and closer to her head, a few nymphs soaked from a dip in a nearby river, an impish looking little boy with horns paying her no mind, and a fairy complete with a crown of holly just a few inches shorter than Hecate making her way across the field.

The fairy was beautiful—to say the least.  A few of the sprites landed atop her head and tugged at Hecate’s bun, but she paid them little mind beyond a halfhearted attempt at swatting them away.

“My cup is empty,” she pouted, holding it upside down sadly.  “Can you please fill it?”  The fairy would know how to get her more.  Fairies always had access to drink if asked nicely. 

She didn’t speak, nor did she take Hecate’s cup, but instead moved closer into her space.  Vaguely, there was a memory of something pink warning her off, but it was tiring to hold onto the memory, and she let it slip away.  The fairy, with her vibrant red hair, green eyes, and pert little lips, was tugging her forward.  Hecate’s hair fell down in a cascade of curls—no doubt the work of the pixies—but she merely shook it out.  The skyclad nymphs were approaching and she couldn’t be bothered to mind about much else.

The fairy took her hand and spun her around, not quite in a dance but almost there.  The nymphs grabbed at her with their cold wet hands, tugging at her clothes, pulling her this way and that with their giggles that felt like kisses.  Her mind was so hazy, they may well have been swimming and she wasn’t sure she would have minded.

They seemed to go on forever, her and the fae, or maybe she was part of the fae?  She couldn’t remember.  She didn’t think she looked like the fairy pulling her along, but she didn’t feel like she belonged as a human any better.

A nymph’s cold lips kissed her cheek, and she shivered again.  In fact, she thought she might have already been shaking, suddenly flooded with the realization that her body was racked with the cold despite the sun beaming higher than ever.  She was spinning, bones clanging together, weak yet so airy she thought she might float before she crumbled.  There was something she was forgetting… something good, warm, full of love…

Something she couldn’t really live without…

Her eyes caught sight of the empty cup still clutched tightly in her fist and she remembered.

“The mead, please, I’m so thirsty.  Do you know where I can get more?” she asked dreamily. 

“We’re almost there, then you can have all the food and drink you like,” purred the fairy. 

That, Hecate thought, was the most enticing offer she’d had all day.  With a smile, she followed, letting them tug her along deeper into the clearing.  There was a magnificent loop of mushrooms just up ahead forming a fairy ring so strong she could practically smell the petrichor on the other side. 

They approached it, just steps away, and Hecate sighed with need.  She was so close to having more of the mead.  Some sort of commotion was happening around her, but it seemed to be hidden in a fog, while the ring was so clear she could just reach out and she’d be inside it.

Just before her foot could cross the threshold with her fae entourage, two warm hands yanked her back.  Hecate yelped in surprise and glared up at the intruder.  She was a blonde woman decked out in pink, something familiar about her yet Hecate couldn’t place it.  She was about to rip herself away, but caught sight of several tear tracks running down her cheeks.  The woman was crying.

“They’re bringing me to the mead, come with me!  It’s so happy there, and everything keeps getting colder here,” Hecate said with another shiver racking her body.  She needed to get through the fairy ring.

“Hecate!” the woman yelled, nails digging uncomfortably into her shoulders.  She could still feel the pixies trying to herd her away.  “This isn’t you, what happened?  Did you eat fae food?”

Her words were so murky.  “Nope, no food,” she said with a giggle.  “If you eat that you get trapped with all these beautiful fairies.  I only drank some mead, and they’re helping me get more.”

The blonde did nothing to loosen her grip, much to Hecate’s annoyance.  She thought she’d given the right answer. 

“That can be just as bad—Hecate, I need you to focus for me.  Where did you get it?  I need to know if it was fae or something worse!”

She tried to remember, but breaking through the fog on her head hurt.  She only recalled that it had tasted like sunshine, and she needed more.  “I don’t know.  May I please go now?”

“Absolutely not, you are staying right here until we figure this out!” she yelled, making Hecate flinch.  Why did this woman have to be so angry over her mead?  She looked aside to the fairy who seemed equally offended. 

“She drank our drink, she belongs to us now.  You know our rules,” the fairy seethed.  Hecate hummed with delight.  Rules were so lovely.  Soooo lovely.  She could kiss them.

The woman pulled her closer, and she frowned.  This was breaking the rules, that couldn’t be good. 

“I do know your rules.  I also know she hasn’t set foot in that ring yet, so there is still time,” the blonde countered.  Hecate’s head spun trying to follow just how many beautiful rules there were.  “I don’t know how this happened, but I can assure you she wouldn’t have drank it willingly.”

Hecate looked to the fairy to see how she might further confuse her.   The fairy merely shrugged.  “We only know she was marked by the scent and came looking for us.  It is not our job to police humans, only to enforce our laws.  Eating or drinking anything fae is a binding contract once she sets foot in our world.  You want to try and keep her out here?  Be my guest.  But if she doesn’t get what she needs soon, without our food she’ll die.”

Hecate wasn’t sure, but from the look on the blonde’s face, that sounded bad. 

The fae moved away, some edging into the fairy ring, others heading back to the party.  Her fairy stood at the perimeter with a smirk on her face. She thought to join her, but the blonde still holding on tugged her back to attention.

“Hecate, we don’t have much time.  She’s trying to trick us into giving up, but all you need is salt.  It’s not too late, just eat a little and all will be—“

“NO!” Hecate screamed, ripping herself away.  “Salt is _poison_.  You wish to poison me!”  She could almost feel it burning her at just the thought.

The blonde reached for her, but didn’t step closer, tears now pouring down her cheeks as she heaved with sobs.  Hecate almost felt like she cared, but that was silly.  “Hiccup, please,” she wailed, just as Hecate began to walk toward her ring once more to get away.

There was something about that name that gave her pause.  A light through the fog, perhaps, or a tingle up her spine.  She turned, looking at the desperately sad creature, and felt _something_ hit her like a ton of bricks.  Slowly, Hecate walked over and placed her hands on the woman’s shoulders.  She was feeling pain, and Hecate couldn’t understand why, but she felt like she needed to fix it.

Humans liked kisses, she thought.  She was almost sure of it, anyways. 

Slowly, she leaned in and placed her lips upon the cheek of the sobbing woman, trying to instill some sense of comfort upon the creature that panged at her heart so ferociously.  The kiss was wet, the salt from her tears dampening Hecate’s lips.  She pulled back and licked them.

For a moment, Hecate felt like a sunbeam had taken over her body, flooding her memories back to her in droves as the fog was blasted away.

Then, every last bit of warmth drained away, but so did her thirst.

Hecate was fading fast, but she found Pippa’s eyes.  Her Pippa—how could she have forgotten?  She couldn’t speak, but as she sunk toward the ground, her hand clasped painfully around a twig of thistle, hoping Pippa might understand.

Then it all went black.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So... what'd ya think?


	7. Chapter Six

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First of all, I am SO SORRY I disappeared on you all before posting the last bit. I'll save you the boring details as to why, and instead take this moment to thank you all so much for sticking with this story! Your response and support have meant the world to me.
> 
> Also, a big thank you to Saltbroom over on Tumblr. PLEASE go check out her STUNNING art she created inspired by this story. http://saltbroom.tumblr.com/post/172777546732/some-hicsqueak-art-based-on-hecateandhoney-s

Hecate came to at the sensation of fingers softly combing through her hair.  They felt strangely soothing, and she groaned, unable to stop the sound from making an escape.  Her eyes blinked open slowly against the muted light inside their tent as she began to register the fact that the fingers belonged to Pippa, and she was lying with her head in Pippa’s lap as the blonde hummed and played with her curls.

“Pippa?” she croaked, scowling at how dry her throat sounded.  Hecate felt as though she’d been hit by a stray broom, but trying to pull up the details only made her head ache.

In a blink Pippa had a glass of water and was helping her sit up to get a drink, which eased it away.  Slowly, she pulled herself fully up into a seated position, cringing against her crackling bones and aching muscles.

“Thank goddess you’re awake,” Pippa sighed, leaning her forehead against Hecate’s shoulder.  “Everyone promised you’d be fine, but I’ve never seen someone so close to being lost to the fae before.  It was…”  Pippa drifted off, the unspoken words more than enough to jolt Hecate’s memory.

Rage flared within her at herself for what she must have put Pippa through, to have her wake up alone and find Hecate flirting in a field of fae.  Hecate hadn’t even remembered who she was, had let her stand there crying and only barely been moved.  She remembered kissing her out of pity, and swallowed down the self-loathing that threatened to arise. 

“I’m sorry,” she sighed. 

Pippa’s head shot up off her shoulder at this, narrowly missing a collision with Hecate’s.

“What would you possibly have to be sorry for?”

“I should have tried harder to know you.  I should have fought the fae drink… better.”

Pippa sighed shakily and reached out toward Hecate’s bandaged hand.  She blinked at it in confusion, vaguely remembering that she’d grabbed onto some thistle in a last ditch effort to warn Pippa.  Hecate slid it closer to the blonde and allowed her to wrap her fingers around it, feeling the warmth of her magic almost instantly.

“Hecate, look at me, please,” Pippa pleaded.

She was afraid to meet those eyes, to see that pain again without the fog in her mind to distance herself from it, but Hecate steeled herself for it and looked up at the sound of determination in Pippa’s tone.  Whatever it was she had to say, Pippa deserved to be fully heard. 

It came as a surprise when she met Pippa’s eyes and found something akin to anger raging through them.

“I want you to listen to me very carefully.  You have _nothing_ to be sorry for.  If anything, I should be sorry for asking you to be nicer to Thistle.  When she saw you clutching the plant she confessed immediately.  She tried to say she didn’t mean for it to go that far but… What she did to you was unforgivable, and I’ve already had arrangements made with the Council for her to be punished accordingly.  Even the fae Courts were angered after they found out a mortal had tried to manipulate their laws. They feel she cheated them out of a mortal servant, and you know how they are about being tricked.”

Hecate shuddered, trying to force herself to accept Pippa’s words.  She knew she’d been violated, hated how her autonomy had been stripped away from her, that none of it had really been her fault.  She knew it, and a fire in her burned at the thought of Thistle, but that did little to ease the ache she felt at the memory of Pippa’s tears.

 “When I woke up and you weren’t here, I thought you’d run again.  I checked outside but Thistle was there, telling me you left in a hurry.  I was so foolish to believe her, Hiccup, I should have trusted you.  If I had, then I could have gotten there sooner and maybe…”  She sighed, playing with Hecate’s hand and looking away.  “I saw your broom, that’s how I realized something was off.  You’d never have transferred yourself so far.  It was like my entire stomach bottomed out when I saw it, and I just knew something was horribly wrong.  When I saw you in the field, I was so scared.  There was barely any of you left and I…” Pippa broke off, a dry sob escaping through her controlled lips as she shakily tried to suck it back in. 

Hecate’s heart cracked.  She reached over and placed her free hand on Pippa’s cheek, thumbing a falling tear away.  “I can’t say I’m not thankful for your tears today, but there is no need to cry now.”

“I’m sorry I didn’t trust you, Hiccup.”

“Be that as it may, I still wish to apologize for what you must have been feeling.  I’m not entirely blameless.  I shouldn’t have threatened to leave last night, it was cruel of me, given our history.  It would be wrong of me to expect trust that I have not earned, Pippa.”

She dropped her hand from Pippa’s cheek and shot her a sly smile.  “Though I do hope there will be plenty of time for me to earn it.”

Pippa looked up, laughter bubbling through her lips as she brushed the remaining tears away.  “We’re a mess, aren’t we?”

“Indeed.”  Hecate sighed.  “Not even Mildred Hubble could dream of creating a mess this grand, I’m afraid.”

“I don’t mind a little mess sometimes, though.  Do you?”  Pippa asked softly.

Hecate sucked in a breath, playing absentmindedly with the timepiece still hanging from around her neck.  Part of her was still screaming at herself to flee—to get away from the tangle of trust issues and missed chances.  The rest of her, however, still tasted salt.

Heavy, emotionally fueled, messy salt splashed against a beautiful rosy cheek just for her.

Hecate looked to the side and spoke, barely above a whisper, afraid the words might carry her away. “I’ve always believed it important to clean up one’s messes, rather than throw them aside.  One may be an easier route, but easier is rarely the more worthwhile path.”

Pippa looked up, hope shining in her eyes.  “Does that mean you want to keep trying?  You really want to have a go at this?  You’re all in?”

Steeling all her nerve in a way Hecate never before thought herself capable, she leaned closer to Pippa, locking their eyes together and feeling their breaths mix around the air between them.  “Not even a bramble of wild thistle could keep me away any longer, Pippa Pentangle, so I hope you’re ready.”

“I’ve been ready since we were fifteen, Hecate.  I don’t think I could wait any longer if I tried.”  Pippa cracked a smile, inching closer to Hecate’s lips with each word.

“I apologize for making you wait so long.”

“Shh,” Pippa whispered, breath warm against Hecate’s lips from their proximity.  “If we keep saying sorry we’ll be here all day, and considering it’s Beltane, I would much rather you kiss me.”

So she did.

 

Later that day saw them sprawled in the grass of the field, Hecate with her head in Pippa’s lap as the blonde continued to play with and braid her curls that she’d neglected to replace into their usual bun.  She’d claimed her energy was still too zapped to bother with it, but really Hecate loved how Pippa’s fingers felt against her scalp.

She watched contently as the younger witches twirled and danced around the maypole that had been erected for the rest of the celebrations.  Despite it all, she was glad she’d come, glad to see the traditions of old still being honored within the craft.  There was a particularly delicate beauty about it that still tingled within Hecate as she sat there under the sun with the grass tickling her ankles.

“I can move my head if you wish to join them,” Hecate said with a happy sigh.  “I don’t think my legs could hold me up long enough, unfortunately, but you should enjoy the day.”

“Thank you, but I’d much rather stay here with you, if you don’t mind.  Besides, I’m working on something.”

“Oh?” Hecate tried to turn her head to see, but Pippa held her firmly in place and whined.

“No don’t, it’s a surprise.”

“Hmmff,” Hecate grumbled, but obliged nonetheless.  Some fae still remained, flitting about the celebrations without a drop of interest in her now that she’d been released from their drink’s effect.  She pressed her hand to the ground and smiled, glad to feel stable after the events of the morning.  It would take her a while to come to terms with it all, to accept the stakes she’d been under, but it was somehow easier with the knowledge that Pippa would be there to help her. 

“How much longer?” Hecate asked, feeling restless from holding still so long with all the energy slowly bringing back her strength.

“Just another moment, be patient,” Pippa chastised, making Hecate smirk.  Pippa was an easily distracted woman at times, but when she truly put her focus on something, there was nary a more adorable sight to behold.  “Okay, all done.  I’ll help you sit up.”

With much less aid than she’d needed earlier, Hecate managed to get upright, propping herself on one arm.  “Well?” she drawled, looking at Pippa’s empty hands in amused suspicion.  The blonde, for her part, was gaping at Hecate with an entirely new look upon her face.

“Sorry, you just… well, let me show you.”  Pippa closed her eyes and transferred her small pocket mirror from their tent into her hand, flipping it open and carefully handing it over to Hecate.

She grasped it, but nearly dropped it to the grass upon the sight that greeted her.  Pippa hadn’t merely been playing in her hair—rather, she’d woven a crown of oak leaves into a braid that ran around the top of her head, leaving enough hair down to still spin in curls down her shoulders, a few tiny pink flowers added in that she knew the other woman likely had been unable to resist.  It would have been stunning work to have seen it accomplished with magic, and Pippa did it all by hand.

Hecate felt her lips stretch out into a smile, unable to resist.  “It looks…”

“Beautiful,” Pippa finished for her, the new look culminating in love across her face in a way that made Hecate flush pink.  “Just like your namesake Goddess sometimes wore.  I just knew it would suit you.”

Hecate smiled past her reflection in the mirror, focused much more on the beauty beside her.  How had she pushed her feelings aside for so long, so obliviously, when Pippa looked at her so deeply?  She knew she was far from homely, but to be compared in such a way to the Goddess was a compliment of the highest regard. 

And here she was, receiving it from Pippa like it was only the most natural thing to say.

Hecate cleared her throat to stop it from crackling, not wanting more tears.  Carefully, she rearranged herself and patted the space in the grass beside her.  “Here, let me do yours,” she said softly, “I think I can manage to hold myself up a bit longer.”  Wordlessly, Pippa obliged, presenting Hecate with her long blonde locks.

Working in a comfortable silence, just listening to the chanting and music playing around them, and the sounds of giddy laughter from all across the field, Hecate began to tug strands of Pippa’s hair, adding in little flowers from a nearby patch—red for strength and vitality, white to cleanse and clear, and little green leaves for growth. 

It was a marvel to be able to do such a thing, to touch Pippa’s hair without fear of being rejected, to inhale her honeysuckle magic and kiss her shoulder when she felt the urge.  It was a gift of Beltane, she thought, as though the festival had personally seen to it, had united their love in a whole new way.

And as the sun lowered in the sky, Pippa’s whimsical laughter floating through the breeze as Hecate found enough strength for a dance under the evening air, both of them feeling so alive in their crowns of flora and leaves, it occurred to Hecate that fearing other witches could truly be a thing of the past.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welp, that's all folks! I'll be coming at you with some new content, but I've loved writing this story for you all so much.

**Author's Note:**

> I have so much planned for their Beltane trip, and I can't wait to take you all on this little journey with me. Poor useless lesbian Hecate.


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